They Talked
by Snow-Across-Time
Summary: England and Italy weren't the best of friends at first, but over time they became quite close. EngIta fluff.


**Hey, I wrote something! Whoa!**

**Hetalia isn't mine.**

England never really knew why he fell in love with Italy. If anyone asked, he'd wave it off with a simple "none of your business" and carry on. If he was in an especially good mood, he might reply with a small remark about Italy's cheerful personality or lovely smile or his talent for making life more interesting (which was usually unintentional). But the real answer was much more complex than that.

The two nations hadn't really exchanged words up until the Great War. Fighting on opposite sides didn't really give them many opportunities to chat, but there no interest to do so. But what did interest England was Italy's personality. It confused him that a person could be such a crybaby, yet still be able to dash to the aid of a friend in trouble without fear. England decided that the Italian must have had some (deeply) hidden courage inside him, and left the matter alone. He had a war to fight, after all.

The war ended at long last, and the blond (along with the rest of the world) thought that would be the end of it. But almost twenty years later, England found himself facing some of the other countries (Italy included) once more. And yet again, England observed Italy helping his allies and raising the spirits of dejected soldiers with his smiles and antics. England even caught himself smiling along once or twice (something he would vehemently deny if it was asked about).

After this second war, the majority of the world cooled off a bit, and England talked with the brown-haired nation at the world conferences that had just begun to take place. Well, it wasn't like he'd intended to at first; Italy was a chatterbox and had cornered him in the conference room a few times… and England had found that he didn't mind as much as he thought he would.

Italy wasn't too bad of a person, England realized; not at all. Once he became accustomed to the never-ending rambles and rapid subject changes that Italy was prone to, England discovered that he actually enjoyed getting to know the other nation. Soon enough, England could tell Italy's birthday, favorite food (of course, that was a given already), favorite color, favorite genre of music, and much more to anyone who might be interested.

Somewhere along England had become something of a confidant to Italy. Every so often in conversation, Italy would make a small mention of an insecurity or worry that he had, and would then try to move on the next subject. England would never bring them up, as it would be terribly impolite. But these moments of uncertainty seemed to become more and more common as years went by and tensions between countries grew higher.

Eventually, England witnessed Italy break down one day after an especially trying conference. He held Italy as he cried and poured out his heart, and England realized just how deeply those fears were ingrained. From then on England made a point to ask Italy how he was whenever they talked, and tried to offer reassurance and advice if Italy seemed worried.

England also found himself spilling his own mind to the cheerful Italian, sharing his worries and secrets. It was sometimes difficult to get a word in at first, what with the amount of talking the shorter did. But once England would start sharing his thoughts, Italy would stop and listen politely, sometimes even giving advice of his own.

England eventually took a look back at his relationship with Italy, and what he found surprised him. Italy was a trusted friend, something he didn't have many of. But it was plain to see that they were very close, and there was no denying that they enjoyed each other's company. They knew each other so well that Italy was welcome to stay at England's house when a meeting was held in his country, and vice versa.

Their relationship stayed like this for many years. But one day England, who was finishing up some work and trying very hard to concentrate, found his thoughts drifting towards the Italian for no reason. It confused him; why should he be thinking of Italy at a time like this? Days and weeks passed, and Italy became more and more present in England's mind. The brit found himself missing the other male when he wasn't around, and envisioning his smile and sweet laugh. When they were near each other England couldn't help but steal small glances of Italy when he wasn't looking, which only puzzled the blond further.

Several years later, England had finally begun to suspect what was happening to him. He didn't dare tell anyone; he'd lived long enough to know that secrets between nations were rarely kept for long. But was it really possible? He, who'd had his heart crushed so cruelly before? Had he really gone and fallen in love?

Another world meeting had come and gone, and England and Italy were enjoying yet another friendly chat. England felt at ease. He soon stopped listening to Italy's words and instead just watched Italy. The way his hands waved about wildly as he spoke and how his amber eyes lit up when he became excited captivated England. He'd seen many beautiful things in his long, long life, but few came close to the sight in front of him.

Without thinking he softly pressed his lips against Italy's, cutting off his chatter. Italy froze, eyes wide, then relaxed and returned the kiss. It lasted for only a few seconds before they pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other's. Italy giggled, and England joined in.

"Wish we'd done that earlier, eh?" asked England, finding Italy's hand and tangling their fingers together.

"Kissing is much nicer than talking, England!" Italy replied with a huge grin. "We definitely should have!"

"Ah well," England smiled. "I suppose we'll just have to make up for lost time."

**Thanks for reading!**


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